Bittersweet Vengeance
by xXBloody.ApocalypseXx
Summary: A young Duchess is driven into revenge by the brutal murders of her loved ones. For this, she has two demon-butlers assissting her.SebastianXOCXClaude
1. Those Butlers, They're Demons

**Author's Note:** This story starts of in third person POV, but it will soon be my cliche first person(OC) pov. Enjoy.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Kuroshirsuji, Sebastian or Claude. If i owned Sebastian, then he would have to take off his shirt on every episode of Black Butler, so...

I own Azalea Bellatrix Draconia and all my OCs. I also own the plot to a great extent.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 1 : Those Butlers; they're Demons<strong>

Azalea shifted in her bed as the bright morning sunlight hit her face. She pulled the covers over her head and tried to go back to sleep.

"My Lady; that will not work. You have to wake up." A male's voice came her ears. It was deep and arresting.

"Your Highness, please. Get up and wipe that sleep off your eyes." Another male voice. That too, was deep and arresting.

"Ugghhh…" she grabbed two pillows, one at a time, and threw them in the direction of either voice. A soft thud each time said that the owners of the voices had caught the pillows.

"Damn you both…" she turned onto her chest and buried her face into the pillow.

"My Lady, if you don't wake up now…" the first voice trailed off.

"Then we'll have to use force on you…" the second voice supplied.

"Sebastian, Claude… when can I kill you both?" Azalea asked as she sat up on her bed unwillingly.

"Not too soon, I guess." Sebastian replied with a mocking tone.

"You can try, but don't be harsh on yourself once you fail." Claude added haughtily.

"I'll make sure I make your deaths as painful as possible…" Azalea eyed either butler grudgingly.

**-bittersweet vengeance-**

It had been five years since the contract had been made. Within that year, she had recognized two contracted two demons. One, after the murder of her family. The second, after the death of her fiancé. She looked at either one as she recalled the past.

Sebastian Michaelis was a tall, attractive demon-man with blood-red glimmering eyes and black hair set into large stylish bangs set around his pale, pointed face; his lips always upturned into a crooked smirk. Claude was also an attractive demon-man with fringed blue-black hair, and glowing amber-golden eyes. He had a flat chin and angular face, and his expression was always stoic; emotionless. In her opinion, either one was handsome and scary at the same time. She liked them both immensely, nevertheless.

Both the demons stood in front of her in their almost-alike butler suits, waiting upon her.

She lived alone in her huge mansion now. Aside the two butlers, there were no other people working there or living alongside her.

Her parents had been killed many years ago, when she was only fifteen. And now she wanted revenge.

Sebastian claimed that her mother had formed a contract with him right before she died. The terms of her contract being the protection and safety of her daughter in exchange for her soul. Tears streamed down her face when she understood that her mother had given up heave for her sake. That had been the time Sebastian had comforted her against everything in the world. He had saved her from turning suicidal. She had tried often though.

She had a fiancé, Damien Frederickson. She loved him immensely. The man with the green eyes and messed up brown hair was her only person worth living for. He had also loved her "more than life itself" as he placed it. He, however, did not approve of Sebastian. She did not mind, always assuring that he was just her butler, nothing more. Truth be told, she hated lying to him. But, nevertheless, she could not talk about the butler's demonic nature to him.

And then, one fall evening, he went out and never came back. She stayed up till twelve fifty, waiting for him. Then, Sebastian offered to go look for him. She insisted to come as well, but he refused flatly. It was as if he sensed something was wrong, and wouldn't let her get to it. When he returned, he carried a bleeding blanket in his arms, wrapping it to conceal something. As soon as he set it down, she had rushed over to see what it was.

It was Damien's possessions…his clothes and other accessories that he had on him the evening he set out.  
>He was dead.<p>

And she had passed out.

Sebastian had carried her back to her bedroom and set her down on the bed. That was exactly when another demon entered the house, and followed him upstairs.

She had gotten over shock after two days, and she finally gained consciousness. As soon as she saw the other butler, Claude Faustus, he questioned who he was. He replied that her fiancé had formed a contract with him just before he breathed his last, hoping that the woman he loved would learn to live without him, move on and find another man so that she could carry on the business without him, and still be happy; in exchange for his soul.

And that made her burst into tears hysterically. Both butlers tried to comfort her but in vain. All that Sebastian had controlled so far; all that he had managed to make her 'forget' came back. Now she grieved the man she loved along with her parents. She grieved and wailed and screamed for a week on stretch. Whenever either butler approached her, she became homicidal, screaming gibberish about 'killing all scum' and 'stabbing everyone to death'. Both butlers had to use force on her; Claude holding her down while Sebastian knocked her out with a press to the side of her neck.

Days, weeks, months and years passed, with Azalea becoming more stable as time went by. Her butlers had become her only faith in life. She couldn't do a thing without them. They did everything for her. One made the bed while the other prepared her bath. One brought her food while the other placed her slippers on her feet. One dressed her up while the other fixed her hair. One stayed to protect and care for her, while the other made sure she was happy.

The two demons themselves weren't always on the best of terms with each other. Sebastian felt he had the bigger responsibility, but had received a weak soul; that of a half-dead woman. Claude, on the other hand, felt that the other demon hoped and asked for too much, which, in his golden eyes, the other did not deserve.

Yes. It's not only that they didn't get along. They practically hated each other.

Moreover, they had to work together. They had to see each other each morning, in the mistress' bedroom when they went to wake her, till they tucked her back in for a good night's sleep. Both demons severely despised their lives.

But their mistress was, as they had to admit, very interesting. Yes, she would try and 'kill' them now and then. But truth be told, she actually toyed with them most of the time. Her behavior, the fact that she was a female heir and the thing that she lived alone in a house with two butlers and no maids; were highly frowned upon by the society. But it seemed like the young girl did not even spare a thought about what the conservative and sexist population of Victorian England thought about her. They did not dare raise a finger on her while talking to her face to face. When told that she was being criticized behind her back, she simply shrugged it off, saying that what she did not hear did not hurt her.

After all, she was a Duchess now, and owner of one of the biggest pharmaceutical and jewellery businesses in the world.

But what both butlers knew was that their mistress was not a rude or indecent woman at all. She hated being indebted to her mother and her fiancé for the sacrifice they made for her sake. She was now handling the business of the Draconia family as well as that of her fiancé's family, the Fredericks' business. Damien had been the only heir of their jewellery business' branch in London, which had another equally large branch in the American state of Virginia. She was a young girl who faced the hardships of life with a straight face. She was a duchess and the owner of two of Britain's rich businesses along with serving her Queen with extreme loyalty. Her sorrow; she kept locked within her. Sometimes, only her butlers got a glimpse of her homicidal attitudes. But, they would survive, wouldn't they? They were demons, after all.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** all my OCs tend to be sleep-freaks, ne? Uhh, I don't know whether that turned out well or not...please review and let me know!


	2. Their Mistress, The Queen's Snake

**Author's Note:** Here's Chapter 2. Hope ya'll like the OC and the story. I just wanted to experiment by putting Sebastian and Claude under one master. So...even I want to see how it turns out!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters Sebastian Claude and Lord Randall. They are all part of Kuroshitsuji, which I don't own. Yana Toboso does, though.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 2: Their Mistress, The Queen's Snake<strong>

Azalea looked at her butlers, who were also eyeing her with curiosity.

"It's Sunday. You don't usually wake me up so early on a Sunday." She looked at Sebastian as he opened her closet. "What? Answer me!" She turned to Claude, who entered the room with a towel and bath-robe.

"My Lady, your aunt and her family are coming over today. They informed us yesterday when you'd already gone to bed." Sebastian said, smiling at her.

"They shall be here on account of attending your birthday tomorrow." Claude added. Azalea eyed Sebastian bring out her attire for the day: a black dress with silver brocade and corset back, with a full-length thickly-netted over satin skirt.

Claude arranged the breakfast tray on her bedside table and helped her to her feet.

"Oh…of course." She got up and headed over to the bathroom. Sebastian and Claude followed her, as always. They never let her out of their sight. She let her nightgown slip off her shoulders and body, and stepped in, while Sebastian shampooed her hair, and Claude scrubbed her arms. She relaxed for a moment in the soothing warm water, before she returned to business.

"Why do they always have to ruin my alone time? I didn't want any relatives on this occasion, poking and prodding into my business. It was a ball just for my friends, business assistants and partners. It was strictly supposed to be a business meeting type of thing!" She got out, as Claude draped the bathrobe around her body. She walked out with the two following her again.

"Sebastian, didn't you tell her that? Claude, you should have known! Right yesterday, I told you about it! I put you in charge of the guest listing. Both of you are complete idiots!" Both demons cringed at her words. But, soon after that, Sebastian's smirk and Claude's stoic expression returned.

"We apologize deeply, young mistress." Sebastian bowed down with a hand over his heart.

"Rest assured that such a thing will never happen again." Claude interjected.

"We'll see about that…" Azalea stood still as Sebastian toweled her hair dry. Her brown hair fell down to her back, and was something most people appreciated about her. Claude brought out a few sheets of papers and placed them on Azalea's dresser.

Sebastian guided the girl to her dresser and she sat down on the stool, looking towards the two butlers. Sebastian walked forwards with the clothing while Claude handed his mistress a glass of water.

"Good, Claude. You remembered that I require a glass of water before putting on that stupid corset." Azalea smirked lightly. Claude blinked once in reply, before bowing low.

"My Lady, allow me." Sebastian gestured to the clothes. He was carrying a huge bundle of the load she had to wear every day. Damn society. But, let's just toy with him for a while, thought Azalea, smirking. She hadn't missed the sour look Sebastian had shot to her other butler, when she complimented the latter.

"Sebastian, how are you going to dress me with all that in your arms? Hand them over to Claude; he can pass them to you as you proceed." Azalea suggested cunningly, knowing that the red-eyed demon would be more than unwilling to take Claude's help.

"My mistress, thank you for your concern, but I'm perfectly fine-" Sebastian started, only to be cut off.

"Cut the crap, okay? Just do as I say." Azalea always cussed whenever she felt like it; another reason for her getting bad karma amongst her folks.

"Yes, my Lady." Azalea watched as the black haired demon handed the large pile of clothing to the demon opposite to him. She could've sworn that Claude's lips twitched at Sebastian's face reaction.

Sebastian pulled the camisole down on her body before putting on the knickers. Claude held out the clothes almost grudgingly. She sat back down more comfortably when Sebastian was done with tying her waist-slip and deportment skirt into place. Last of all came the torture device…the corset. Sebastian took it away from Claude's hands, and handed the discarded towel over to him. The first time Azalea had been dressed by the demons was the most embarrassing moment of her life, as far as she recalled. She had never been full-blown naked in front of anyone but her mother and her personal maid before that. But now, after so many years of the same thing…Sebastian dressing her while Claude stood over for orders…was usual. She'd grown used to it. If her aunt or other relatives got to know how her butlers served the purpose of her personal maids, she knew that they'd torment her to no end. She didn't want anyone to know about her private life.

The corset's laces, amazingly, did not hurt much. Sebastian had paid attention to what she'd told him before: about applying less pressure over her chest (since it nearly pulverized her lungs and hurt her sensitive region) and keep it tight at the waist (she still likes to look good). Yeah, she's grown accustomed to share such things with her butlers. Come on, they're the only ones she could trust now. She wouldn't risk anyone else to be here. Humans all spill out their secrets when it comes to money. These demons: not a chance.

"That is good, Sebastian. You've done a great job. I actually don't mind wearing a corset for once. Especially because you've laced it exactly how I told you before." Sebastian smirked as Azalea praised him. He pulled the dress over her head and secured the final strings in place.

Azalea glanced at the lapels of her butlers' jackets. Sebastian and Claude were wearing different badges. Since her mother had been the one to form a contract with Sebastian, that made him the rightful owner of the post of the Draconia butler. Therefore, he wore the badge with the Draconia coat of arms on it.

Claude, on the other hand, had been summoned by Damien, and that made him the rightful Frederickson butler. He wore the badge with the Frederickson coat of arms on it. He was the last Frederickson heir…so his butler belonged to her now.

The Draconia family has always been prestigious and the business remained eminent throughout the ages. Azalea wasn't willing to let it pass on to someone unworthy of inheriting it. She would maintain ownership of it for as long as she could. But what bothered her sorely was who it would pass onto after her death. She had no direct bloodline; plus her fiancé was dead. She let it slip for now: she did not want to think about getting married or having children as yet.

"What's on the schedule for today, my loyal butlers?" Azalea asked as she picked up the papers on her dresser and read through them about the latest business statistics. She took a hold of the morning newspaper in her other hand.

"My lady, it is required that you listen to the board of directors and the new complaints they have for you." Sebastian said.

"Uhh…they always have _something_ or the other bothering them, don't they? Stupid morons…"

"And later this afternoon, after lunch, the Queen's butler has arranged to meet you. A new mission for the Queen's snake, I presume." Said Claude.

Ah, yes. The queen's snake. Slithering into the deepest and most unknown crevices of London underground, the Draconia family had to unknowingly strike the wrong-doers polluting London, and eliminate them with their deadly venom.

And here, Azalea was now hoisting the reputation of the deadliest heir to take up this post till date.

"Let's see what it is this time."

The last time, it was a chain of brutal murders done by a serial killer, who took pleasure in murdering and robbing. Azalea had tracked him down, and without any further ado, killed him. She got the demons to do that job.

Scotland Yard and Lord Arthur Randall were furious.

"How dare you take law into your hands?" Randall said, the first time he'd met Azalea after she'd terminated some killer.

"I don't dare, Lord Randall. I just carry out orders. Besides, I don't give a fuck about the law-" Randall and the other officers cringed at the use of such an indecent word by a woman of noble stature. "-and these pathetic, low-class criminals deserve it simply because of soiling London and, moreover, for wasting my time."

And, with a flick of her brown tresses, she turned and walked away, the two, tall and intimidating butlers flanking her.

Scotland Yard had been much less conspicuous about interfering in her cases after that, and they were even more subtle at talking about it when caught.

For they knew now: Azalea Bellatrix Draconia is not a woman to cross.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** So, whatcha think? Review and let me know!


	3. Their Mistress, The Director

**Author's Note**: Finally, this switched to first person POV! More OCs enter the story! I must warn you though, this story's going to have a LOT of a)politics b)business and c)romance & smut. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any recognizable material.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3: Their Mistress, The Director<strong>

"Azalea, you still don't have any maids in the manor? I don't know how you manage to dress up, what with the only others around being your butlers." She glanced at Sebastian and Claude with a disapproving look in her eyes. "I didn't know how we'd manage to dress up for the upcoming party without any maids…and knowing, you, I was pretty certain that you wouldn't improve your ways. So I brought three personal maids over with me."

"Nice to see you too, Aunt Vivian." I spat out.

There she stood; Aunt Vivian Martinez, from an intimidating height of five feet ten, she was a lithe, graceful woman but she was also definitely the most imposing one ever. Her hair was tied up in a tight bun behind her head, and her make-up was clean and applied to a minimum. She wore a long, floor-length, royal-blue dress. She was flanked by her two, if I may be so bold to say, _whorish _daughters, who did not take after their mother one bit. They were eyeing Sebastian and Claude like hungry crows. And then, there were her loyal maids: Marisa, Penelope and Nora.

Clarissa Martinez and Louisa Martinez were twins. They both wore identical silk dresses, one in green and the other in yellow. They dressed up too brightly for my tastes. Their dresses were two sizes too tight for them, and therefore they look quite a lot like whores. Their excessive make-up and blood-red lipstick slapped over their lips disgusted me.

Aunt Vivian, my mother's sister, is the widow of a Baron of Spanish origin. She is the biggest hypocrite ever and she would love to call me an improper woman. She disregards the fact that her daughters are much more indecent than I would ever be. Wonder what she would say if she ever got to know that the girls were secretly courting men they didn't even know properly. Heck, more than half of them weren't even nobles!

Besides, Sebastian had dutifully handed over the graphic love-letter Clarissa had left outside his room to me. So, I have proof to point out the true fact…should the need ever arise. Oh, the things she's written in there…it's going to blow my aunt's mind of this universe.

Sebastian stepped forward. "My lady, I shall guide you to your room if you would be so kind as to follow me."

Aunt Vivian glanced at me one last time before exiting. Marisa picked up her luggage and quickly followed.

"Please, follow me. I'll lead you to your lodgings." Claude bowed and motioned to the girls to follow, their maids close at their heels.

-bittersweet vengeance-

Sebastian sat opposite to me in the carriage. We were heading over to my townhouse in London. There, we would be having the meeting. It's basically all family members in the business, so my townhouse is good enough.

"Do you think Claude will be okay?" I asked Sebastian. The demon was left all alone to put up with Aunt Vivian.

"Relax, my lady. If he can't manage, then he isn't worth his salt." Sebastian smirked.

"Still…I mean, it IS Aunt Vivian, we're talking about. You and I both know enough that she's really annoying and commanding."

Sebastian simply chuckled.

-bittersweet vengeance-

Back to 3rd person POV:

The board of directors for the company Draconia & Frederickson's consisted of all-male members. There were eight members on the board altogether. Four from the Draconia and four from the Frederickson family. But the most important post was held by a female, Azalea Bellatrix Draconia, since she was the sole heir to the Draconias and the fiancée of the heir to Frederickson. The business was rightfully hers.

The business was one formed from a sort of conglomerate integration. The jewellery business of the Frederickson's had agreed to merge with the Draconia's pharmaceutical business because of the two heirs being engaged to each other. Basically, the engagement between Azalea and Damien was more of a business deal than a marriage contract.

Now, the business was a huge multi-national company, with huge plants in Britain, America, Australia, Spain, Germany, Italy, Austria and France. The trade extended to countries as far of as Japan and India. The branches in each country was governed by a separate person.

This morning, everyone from the board of directors was not present, and this put Azalea into a nasty mood.

"Where's Matthew Frederickson?" Azalea questioned with authority as soon as she entered. The other members all stood up to greet her, but she cut it short.

"Sit. Formal meetings can wait. You all had something to say, I believe. Don't waste my time in the how-are-you-how's-everything-going crap. Now answer my first question."

A random member said, "He couldn't be back in time. Things are pretty troublesome down there in Barcelona."

Matthew Frederickson was Damien's uncle, who was in charge of the branch of Draconia & Frederickson's in Barcelona, Spain.

"Well, don't bother to call me if all of you can't even be here on time." Azalea growled, to which all the men in the room shivered.

"So, what have I been called here for?" Azalea asked, leaning her cheek on her hand, bored.

Jeremy Frederickson, another of Damien's uncles, the in-charge for the Paris Branch, stood up. "There have been reports of certain formulas of our rarest and latest medicinal drugs being sold out to rival companies and-"

"What?" Azalea leaned forwards, in full attention.

Jeremy Frederickson hesitated, "It's true. Someone from the inside has transported information to other companies, or…"

"Or…what?" Azalea yelled. Sebastian stood behind her chair, taking notes.

Jeremy Frederickson sat down out of terror.

"Azalea, keep your calm." Thomas Draconia stood up. He was her father's immediate younger brother, and a very intimidating fellow. He was the one running the branch in Rome.

Azalea's expression turned sour, and her voice lowered into a menacing sneer. "You shall not order me as long as you are within these walls, Mr. Thomas Draconia. For over here, I am your boss. And you shall follow what I say, regard my decisions and raise no questions whatsoever. Do I make myself clear?"

Thomas Draconia sat back down, with a deadly expression on his face. Sebastian smirked at Azalea's reply.

Walter Lewis, the director of the Berlin branch, said, "We suspect someone has infiltrated the company."

"Someone? Who in hell is this daring _someone_?" Azalea roared.

Joseph Frederickson, the fourth and youngest brother of Damien's father, Derek Frederickson, got up. She'd put him in charge of the branch in Virginia, America. He was the only member of the board who she actually didn't get hyper on.

"Ma'am, I believe it is actually a whole organization and not the work of an individual, because infiltrating into a business of such magnitude like Draconia & Frederickson's is next to impossible without backing."

Azalea looked at the members of the board, thinking if any of them were involved in this whole conspiracy. By their looks, except Joseph, they'd do anything to throw her out of that chair of the director of the branch in London, and the head of the board. In her eyes, they were all a bunch of hungry vultures…hungry for power and money.

Bastards, she thought.

"Very well."

She got up, ready to leave before asking:

"When did this all start?"

Ronald Draconia answered. He was the one in the Australian branch. "Since the last two months."

"_And you're telling me_ _NOW_?"

Sebastian smirked once again. The board of directors sighed, foreseeing the long, upcoming hours of Azalea Bellatrix Draconia's wrath falling upon them.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** what do you think of Azalea? She's pretty badass, ne?LOL REVIEWS!


	4. Their Mistress, On A New Mission

**Author's Note:** I am just beginning to develop the twisted plot. This chapter is short, and the next one will be longer, but eventually, the plot will start to clear up! Hope you enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** Yeah, yeah...don't own Kuroshitsuji. Would love to own Sebastian, but don't so...-_-

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3: Their Mistress, On A New Mission<strong>

By the time I reached home, I was fuming.

"My lady, you should relax a bit." Sebastian gently touched the side of my face. I simply shoved his hand away.

"Those fucking morons don't know when to piss me off, do they?" I asked, frustrated.

Sebastian refrained from replying.

"Aunt Vivian, what the _Hell_ are you _doing_?"

My neat, tidy hall of my near, tidy manor had been transformed into a…bunny-shop kind of thing. Wow.

"As you can see, I'm trying to make your house look presentable."

"What was so darn 'unpresentable' about it in the first place? My butlers work 24/7 to keep this place top-notch! Nothing can possibly have a fu-" I caught myself, " -freaking _speck_ on it!" I yelled in frustration. Could this day get any worse?

Aunt Vivian waggled her finger at me. "This house shall be holding a party. It should look like a party is going to be held."

Okay, now that was it.

I rushed up to the stairs and tore out a large number of streamers. Gosh, they were _all over_ the place!

I threw it at her feet, and didn't bother to mind my language this time. "What the fuck is with all these streamers and decorations? What am I, a five-year old?"

"Azalea!" Aunt Vivian roared. "Mind your language!"

"Perhaps I'd consider it if you'd stop trying to act like you're my mother!" Aunt Vivian gasped, but I ranted on. "Because you're no one to lecture me on how I'm supposed to act and how not." I hissed before retreating to my bedroom.

-bittersweet vengeance-

"Ash Landers, what is it that you wish to inform me of?" I asked with a bored expression on my face as I studied the white-clad Queen's butler before me.

Ash chuckled cheerfully and hand me an envelope, sealed with the emblem of royalty. "The Royal Majesty requests you to look into the matter at hand. I shall take my leave now, for I have work to attend to. You shall have all the details in the letter." Ash bowed politely before exiting the parlour. Claude followed him.

"Sebastian, read out the letter and tell me what the old hag wants now…" I tossed the envelope to Sebastian, who caught it between two fingers. Claude entered with my afternoon tea.

"If it may be of concern to you ,your Highness, the tea for our guests has been served in the pavilion. Do you wish to accompany-" I interrupted Claude.

"You know I don't have the time to be the kindest and most hospitable host. I have business to handle." I snarled.

Claude bowed. "I shall inform them of your absence for the tea."

"You do that." I said, waving him off. "What are _you_ waiting for?" I snapped at Sebastian.

He smirked and began reading the letter.

"Duchess Azalea Bellatrix Draconia,

We have been informed that certain harbours have been detected as being the spot for the illegal import of expensive and potentially harmful drugs. We do not wish to offend you of doubt of illegal activity, but we suspect that you may know of this shipping program, since a lot of the harbours are under your command. As Draconia & Frederickson's head-of-board, we believe you have been informed of all imports and exports, and hope that you will know if there have been any illegal drugs in circulation within the city. Your company is respected and the primary supplier of most drugs and medication in Britain. So we would like to know if you are aware of this, since it may or may not have a negative effect on your sales due to the availability of foreign drugs. We are sure you would not prefer too much competition in the industrial arena, and we hope you will look into the matters.

Another reason of concern is the numerous murders occurring along the sides of these docks. We believe that there is a circulation agency involved in the shipping of illegal drugs, and they also have a circle of robbers and killers spread throughout a network of underground channels. Scotland Yard has confirmed our suspicions.

We have also received report that the Barcelona branch of your company has been caught dishing out morphine to all those who would pay a handsome sum for it. Matthew Frederickson, director of the Barcelona plant of your factory, claims no involvement, and through his sources, all charges of his involvement in the drug-dealing area has been vindicated. But the question remains: who is responsible for it in actuality?

I hope that you will kindly look into the whole case, and terminate the murderers, who have threatened the purity of our city. It would also be a great help if you would find out about the people involved in the dealing of these harmful drugs and whether or not they have infiltrated into your company.

Signed

Royal Highness of the British Empire  
>Her majesty, Queen Victoria."<p>

"My, my…" Sebastian said, folding the letter.

"That bunch of useless morons…they don't know when to inform me, do they? And I get a letter from the Queen, clearly stating in a polite fashion, that they doubt me of all this smuggling!" I huffed. "Sullying the reputation of the business I have devoted my life to…they're not getting away with this."

"I'm sure we'll solve the case, my Lady." Sebastian replied.

"Yeah, but before that, I need to get this birthday party off my hands…cursed social circle…and society."

Sebastian simply chuckled.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** reviews keep me motivated to write more!


	5. Their Mistress, Aesthetics

**Author's Note: **I know I have a habit of ending stuff in cliffhangers, and then vanishing for days together, but when you have stuff like Bio, Pure maths and Physics coming to kill you together, you'll understand my sorrow and helplessness. -_-

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4:<strong> **Their Mistress,** **Aesthetics**

"Get the fuck out."

I thought these three were top-notch maids, then why the hell haven't they learned to knock before entering a room?

Marisa looked like she could faint when she barged into my room just as Sebastian was tying my corset and Claude was doing my hair. Yes, the day of the party is here.

"Where the hell are your manners?" I yelled as the girl trembled under my stare.

"Lady Martinez sent me to help you out with dressing yourself…" the girl stuttered.

"Well, why would I need another person to help when I have two butlers helping me? Go tell Aunt Vivian of that." I spat out.

And with that, she was off.

"My, my. You were quite rude with the poor girl…" Sebastian said, as he finally finished securing the last strings into place. I could feel Claude get over with my hair.

"If you feel so bad about it, then you're quite welcome to go give her a nice screw when you have the time!" I snarled. "But as for now, your hands are quite full."

That silenced Sebastian, though the goddamned smirk did not falter at the least.

**-bittersweet vengeance-**

It was a fine spring evening, and the melodies of the cellos and violins floated into the soft, cool breeze, as the guests entered through the huge double doors. The ceiling hoisted three large and elaborately designed crystal chandeliers, which illuminated the whole room. The polished floor of ballroom was practically glittering in the light. The guests were all standing in small groups all over the huge ballroom, chatting and sharing the latest gossip. The food was laid out in a long buffet table at one side, while the musicians stood in small balconies on either side of the ballroom. The large staircase covered in a red carpet had its foot at the centre of the room; its gold banisters diverging outwards as it came down.

Aunt Vivian stood at the bottom of the stairs, while her daughters eyed the guests impatiently.

"Mother, why do we have to wait for Azalea to get downstairs-" Clarissa began, just to be cut off by Aunt Vivian.

"If you don't have the common sense to figure out why, then don't you dare call me your mother!" Oh yes, she's angry.

Louisa and Clarissa exchanged frightened looks.

**-bittersweet vengeance-**

"What are those?" I asked, noticing Claude take some papers off my dresser before I could grab them. Sebastian held me down; he was busy lacing up my shoes and stockings.

He looked up and smirked. "It's nothing much, my Lady. I'll handle it while you attend the party. You can see through them later."

"Who's the servant?" I snapped.

Sebastian smirked, while Claude made no response.

"Do you really want to look through the-" Sebastian was saying, as he finished doing the laces, but I cut him off. I walked up to Claude.

"Hand them over." I outstretched my palm.

Claude knew he was cornered, and I gave him the most demanding look I could muster.

As soon as the brown paper-wrapped papers were in my hands, I looked through them to get to know why Claude had been reluctant to hand them over to me. The note on the brown wrapping said it had arrived just now from Joseph Frederickson, saying that a large number of ships bearing their imported raw materials were about to arrive at the dock tonight. The number of ships was the same as always, but the board of directors was worried about the whole illegal import issue. I read through the five-page document in five minutes.

"And you didn't think I had to know of this as quickly as possible." I said in monotone to both of my butlers.

"Your highness, you have a party to attend to. I didn't want to give you an additional thought to ruin your mood for the party," Claude said.

"You," I looked at Claude, "You know full well that I have _no_ whatsoever mood for parties. Ever."

Claude didn't reply.

"Get out of my sight…" I said, tired of him. "Change into something presentable, and wait for me outside."

Claude turned and walked off.

I now turned on Sebastian.

"As if one jackass wasn't enough, I have two on my hands." I spat. "'It's_ nothing much, my Lady. I'll handle it while you attend the party. You can see through them later'_,"I mimicked him. "Bullshit!"

Sebastian almost looked surprised, before returning to his previous, serious demeanor.

"So, what do you plan to do, oh my absolutely genius butler?" I was so pissed; I didn't really care that these guys are demons.

"If my lady permits," Sebastian bowed down to hide that goddamned smirk of his, "I would like to go to the port and personally investigate the area near to the docking site and our warehouses located there."

I looked at him questioningly, urging him to carry on.

"Oh, and as per your orders, my Lady, I shall not kill or cause any commotion while investigating. I shall wait for your decision, and then, we shall decide how we can bring this possible society down."

I glared. "I know that, you sore loser." I got up and walked to stand directly in front of him, not caring about his height which towered to almost seven inches more than mine; and then spoke in a voice that was almost a hiss."You wouldn't dare mess things up."

As I turned away, I suddenly found myself pinned face first to the wall. A cool breathe washed down the side of my neck, while two strong hands held my fists to my sides, against the wall. A rock-hard chest was up against my back.

"Miss Azalea, if we talk about what I _dare_ to do, then let's just say I'd leave it to you to figure out the endless possibilities. Please remember, that while you are a human and we are under contract, you are still weak, and the contracts we hold are those of dead people. Contracts are not holy vows, so if we felt like it, we have all the power to hurt you or cause you pain beyond measure."

The chandeliers of my room went off, as if by some otherworldly force. The wall in front of me was illuminated in a bright purple, telling me that demonic eyes have been unleashed.

_You think I'm losing my calm, you idiot of a demon?_ I thought. _Well, you're wrong._

"To you demons, contracts are aesthetics.' I chuckled humorlessly. "You have been ordered to ensure I am out of harm's way. Bringing me harm with your own two hands, as you claim to do, would be a breach of that contract now, wouldn't it? And even though no one's going to sue you for it, you will still bear in mind that you did not abide by your aesthetics. That much is enough to make you sue yourself. So, I'm the one who gets the profit. Meanwhile, you rot in your own twisted thoughts which will chime: 'you failed your contract on purpose. You insulted your aesthetics, you destroyed your pride.' Hurts, doesn't it?"

Sebastian's smirk had almost disappeared by now, and I felt his grip loosen slightly.

"After all, conviction and loyalty means nothing to you demons. All you have are principles, and aesthetics."

Sebastian chuckled deeply.

"The fact that you are so utterly amusing makes this contract worth it. Following aesthetics even after your contract holder is dead can be so tedious at times, as you can see in my case…having to work alongside someone like…the one your fiancé called Claude."

"So you are saying that you are staying because you find me amusing." I stated.

"Very much so, my Lady."

We remained silent for some time.

'You see why I find you amusing? All this time, you have been trying to wring your hands out of my grasp, knowing that I am a demon and you shall not accomplish the feat, yet you do not order me to release you." Sebastian pondered aloud.

"That's because a dastardly demon who has no contract with me is not obligated to follow my orders. In any case, if you choose not to release me, you shall not do so. You won't attempt to break my wrist, yet you can keep me in this stance for the rest of eternity, can you not?"

"Very much so, my Lady," Sebastian chuckled yet again.

"Besides, I am a woman with much faith in my personal strength, so I wouldn't sink so low as to ask for freedom-" and with Sebastian taken off guard for a split second, I managed to bring my sharp stiletto crashing down onto his toe, while I swung my other leg to his side to knock him off.

Plan 1: pass.

Plan 2: not so much.

Sebastian cringed, before grabbing hold of my leg. He transferred both my wrists to one of his own huge palms, elbowed my waist down, and grabbed my knee and pulled it back. One side of my face was now firmly shoved up against the wall.

"My, my. Never before has a human been able to accomplish such a feat, my lady. You must be exceptional in the world of humans." Sebastian applauded me with words. "It actually stings slightly, almost like an ant bite."

"That's the only difference, isn't it?" I chuckled, even though the way he had bent my knee backwards hurt me quite a bit, and I was holding back from groaning in pain. Not to mention that the bare skin of his cold palms were in contact with my thigh, which was not acceptable to me one bit. "Whereas a normal human's toes would have been crushed, and bled like crazy, you still stand there in your previous stance."

"With a greater advantage over you, if I may add." Sebastian smirked. "You see, it is a bit far-fetched to think that you would be able to pull of such a feat twice in a row."

"Girl can dream…" I smirked lightly. 'But aren't you going against your aesthetics now?"

"I wouldn't consider this an inconsideration of my aesthetics if you do not accept this as your defeat and submission due to absolute agony." Sebastian licked his lips subtly. "Since you don't consider this painful even though it is…" he whispered in my ear as he bent my leg further backwards. I bit down on my tongue."…you have not been harmed. Your pride remains as it is, since you are a- what was it now –_a strong woman with much faith in your personal strength, so you wouldn't sink so low as to ask for freedom_. Mentally, you keep yourself unimaginably calm and _unhurt_ in human standards."

"Toying around with each other's lines, are we?" I replied, smug.

"As well as each other's double entendres, if I may add." Sebastian said, as he let go off me. "Just keep in mind that you live in a house, all alone with two demons, and everyone else you know would be happier if you were dead."

My leg seemed so numb, I couldn't even move it.

Sebastian bowed down low. "I am sincerely sorry, my lady. My approach towards you was utterly unacceptable."

I snorted. He was back to 'devoted butler' mode. Devoted…the sweet irony.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** So, whatcha think?! Let me know by filling up that box at the bottom and I'll be glad to improve my writing and new ideas are always welcomed!

**Important Author's Note: **

**I'm gonna pull back and relax after this!**

**Nah, I don't have time to relax. But there's a high chance it'll take time for me to update any of my stories due to my workload.**

**I promise to update multiple chapters for each and every story once I return.**

So whatcha think? You guys got a hell lotta time to review, so the more reviews I get, the harder I'll work on updating sooner!

Rosalind: REVIEWS = LOVE!

Sebastian: And it also helps my mistress work faster.

Rosalind: Yeah, of course it does!

Sebastian: So, kind readers, instead of simply following and/or favouriting, please leave atleast a few words for my mistress to feel motivated!

Rosalind: SEBASTIAN's asking you!


	6. Their Mistress, At The Party

**Author's Note: **I know I said there would be no more updates unless I get reviews, but I changed my mind to update this, Supernatural and Time Warp. But that's it! I'm working on designing all of my OCs! Yes! I am designing each and every one of my OCs! So updates are gonna be rare without reviews.

**They are all gonna be sketchworks.**

**The pictures are gonna be posted here as well as a larger version on my deviantart gallery.**

**Links will be found on my profile in due time.**

**Popular demand may get me to make colored versions...^_^**

**IMPORTANT: I fixed the previous chapters and the names of all chapters changed.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5:<strong> **Their Mistress; At The Party**

13th February. A beautiful spring night. The night of Azalea Bellatrix Draconia's birthday. Everywhere the chatter was the same; where was the hostess?

The guests now had their eyes fixated at the top of the staircase. Aunt Vivian, as well as Clarissa and Louisa, followed suit to see two figures clad in black on the first staircase landing.

Wearing a long ball gown entirely in black, Azalea Bellatrix Draconia held the arm of her butler and secretary – Claude Faustus, as she stepped down one stair at a time. The audience was captivated by the beauty of her dress. The gown was surely attracting many envious stares from the ladies. It was made of the finest ebony satin, with a corset top. The corset was tied up at the front, with its string extensions reaching downwards over the skirt. It had strong, smooth satin strings securing it in place, while the holes of the corset had silver rings trimming them off. The corset was made of hardened cotton boards, while satin covered with intricate black lace was sewn over it to give it a netted effect. There was an off-shoulder, full-sleeved, low-necked top below the corset, which came to the hips in a pencil style until it finally belled out at the upper thighs to form the skirt. The skirt itself had three full-length layers of net-fabric over it to form the outer georgette-type layer of the skirt. The belt of the skirt was heavy, with silver, circular discs joined with silver links, while she wore a matching choker in black, with silver studs, at her neck. The sleeves had lace trimmings at the end, which extended out to fit over and cover half of her hands, leaving only the fingers out for use.

Azalea's POV:

"Azalea, you are late for your own party," Aunt Vivian snarled with venom in her voice, as I came to the foot of the stairs. I simply ignored the two whores, and just turned my head to glance at my aunt, who took the gesture to be a beacon for her to open her mouth. Well, whatever. It's not like I don't have an answer.

"As you just stated yourself, it is my party, so I come and go whenever I please," I snarled back with almost as much venom.

I entwined my arm firmly with Claude's and turned to walk away, when, most unfortunately for both me and my aunt, she found another thing to pick on. Unfortunate for me, since it will just waste more of my precious time when I know Sebastian will report any minute now about what he's found out. I've got to get over with this stupid social event soon...

And, unfortunate for her, because, decent woman that she is, I'd still have to insult her further in front of her slutty daughters.

"Why are you arm-in-arm with your butler? You know full well that-" I interrupted her before she could go any further.

"-yes, I know what this goddamned society thinks and you know full well that I don't give a flying crap," I turned my head to reply in monotone, not loosening my grip on Claude's arm. 'And for your kind information, Claude here is the secretary to the head of the board of directors of Draconia & Frederickson's, so that gives him the social status to be with a lady of noble stature, like me."

Leaving two agape daughters seeing their mother be answered back like no other, and Aunt Vivian with an even worse temper than before, I walked off to meet up with some business officials.

**-bittersweet vengeance-**

"Happy Birthday, Miss Draconia!" and 'Hope you have a memorable new age coming forth," came from several men and women as I walked by.

"God bless you, lovely lady!" and "Hope you always walk on a rightful path," came from the elderly people.

_Strangers don't need to wish me well when my own family members would value my fortune over my well-being,_ I thought. _And besides, birthday is nothing but a signpost saying, you are getting older and closer to your death. Does aging sound like something to celebrate for? Is getting closer and closer to being old, feeble and withered so appealing that you hoist a huge ball like this? Replace my smooth burgundy tresses with white, lifeless ones, my sparkling brown orbs for lifeless gray, my smooth, youthful skin for a wrinkled and faded one? Is that what I'm celebrating for?_

_No. I'm not celebrating. The ones who want me dead are enjoying themselves. _I clenched my fists out of rage.

"Is something wrong, your highness?" Claude asked in monotone. Well, he can't be any more concerned; I kind of figured that out. He wouldn't be any more caring than how Sebastian puts it. _They are here only since they find me amusing._

"It's none of your business, demon," I replied through gritted teeth.

**-bittersweet vengeance-**

"Happy-"

"Do you want me to walk away and ignore you like the dirt on my-no-my dog's foot?"

Joseph Frederickson chortled in a confused manner, before being silenced by my glare. Apparently no one other than him found this even remotely funny. He therefore decided to change the topic.

"My lady, did you receive my parcel?" he asked.

"Yes. In fact, I did. But I would have gotten it sooner, if it weren't for some people…" I gave Claude an accusing sideways glance. He remained like green litmus paper-neutral all the way.

"I remembered that you wanted any updates we could lay our hands on, so I decided to send you the papers with your advisor."

"Oh?" So it's not only Claude involved in this stupid charade of hiding papers. "Sebastian?"

"Yes. About a day ago, I handed them over secretly to Mr. Michaelis so that it would reach you as quickly as possible. If I had waited till today, Thomas Draconia-" he glanced somewhere off to his right, and Azalea followed his sight to notice the familiar figure of the fierce, second Draconia brother. "-or someone else would have stopped me from passing the information to you. They want to take matters into their own hands and not let you know of any of this."

"I'm aware of how the minds of those bastards work…" _And apparently, these two sitting here in my mansion aren't as reliable at all times. _All men I've met, except this Joseph and…Damien, all prove to be bastards when outwitted by women. Loud-mouthed, uptight, boastful, but in reality, full of hot air. That's what these sons of bitches are.

Joseph cringed.

"My lady-"

"It's Azalea," I said grudgingly. "I don't know how many times I've told you to cut the crap. You're a director, not my servant. Stop being a pussy and act like a director."

'Oh…o-of course, ma'am-I mean- Miss Azalea, I didn't mean to-" Joseph seemed stranded for words.

I raised an eyebrow and he seemed to get back to his senses.

"Who's she?" I motioned to the girl I had never seen before (and had thus completely disregarded her existence), standing beside him in rapt silence. She had her blonde hair put up in a stylish French twist. I never personally liked blonde hair. I unconsciously entwined one of my tightly set, elaborate burgundy curls hanging at my shoulders around a long, black-painted nail. I noticed her light brown eyes fall upon the various rings of diamond, emerald and sapphire glittering at my fingers.

"Oh! This is my fiancée, Gracelia Campbell. She's the daughter of the Scottish lord, Wellington Campbell, who owns a-"

"No. Never heard of him." I said curtly, smirking at the girl, who looked kind of shocked, though my eyes remained monotone.

"Oh…" Joseph trailed off, not knowing what to say, so I broke the awkward moment for him (even though it would have clearly been more fun if I let the awkward air hang).

"I suddenly notice that you are looking quite handsome in this white suit." I mischievously winked, reaching out to touch the lapel of his suit, making the man almost blush. "Your black hair goes well with it. It wouldn't be the same case, were you blonde." I shot a 'whatever' look at the girl.

Joseph looked at me like I had gone crazy. Gracelia Campbell was dumbstruck.

I outstretched my arm. "May I have this dance, Joseph?" I asked.

"What?" If the previous look meant he thinks I'm crazy, the one he gave me now meant he _knew_ I'm insane.

"Are you denying your boss of what she is asking of you?" I cocked my head to one side and put a finger to my lips, my mahogany eyes sparkling with mystery. Joseph looked utterly shocked, mirroring the expression of his fiancée.

"Uhh…no!" Joseph stuttered, 'It-it's just that-that a woman never asks a man to-"

"To dance? Then you should be honoured, not surprised, jackass!" I chuckled with an amount of humour usually not present in my voice, while Gracelia gasped at the use of the 'improper' word.

"Claude," the butler looked at me, "All the shit about the things I do to upset the society hits the fan very quickly, no? But here we have someone, who works for me and yet doesn't know about all the rumours. But they aren't really rumours, are they now?"

"Yes…your lawless nature is quite well-known all over London." Claude said in monotone.

"So, do I have this dance, or do I have this dance?" I smirked yet again.

"Oh…of-of course," Joseph looked like a mouse cornered by a ferocious hawk. The look almost made me laugh. Before I made my way to the dance floor with my prey *cough* partner, I noticed Claude saunter off somewhere into the crowd, leaving the Gracelia girl all alone.

**-bittersweet vengeance-**

"Wellington Campbell, 75, father to five daughters – Cecil, Marianna, Vanessa, Clarisse and Gracelia. Four married; apparently the last and youngest is engaged to you…" I said as if to myself, while Joseph's mouth hung open. The soft tune being played on the flute at the moment sounded a lot like _Sleeping Beauty_, but I never really cared about music or dance or art. The creative, dreamy, impractical world wasn't for me. I was simply too much into business, and I spent all my time with my father, learning about how he runs his business and his undercover job together. I was the only daughter and only child, so I was most definitely the rightful heir. My father never gave a damn about the society not wanting women to lead a business or anything, come to think of it. He thought I was perfectly capable of taking over after him, so here I am.

I think I inherited the lawless nature from him, besides his brown hair and green eyes.

I gripped Joseph's hand tighter to maneuver him as I wished, with the man turning slightly red. I was also almost a head taller than him, so it was hard for him to dance and look dominant.

The business owned by Wellington Campbell was the second largest pharmaceutical business in Britain. Their recently discovered drug for night blindness is our greatest competition in the market. That business is the only one which stands in my way of creating a monopoly in the country in the line of medicine. As soon as I own that business, I shall have a greater grip over the market, fifteen more manufacturing plants all over Britain and no competition. Talk about the wealth and reputation.

"So…how is she?" I asked. Joseph looked very surprised. I twirled on the ballroom floor all of a sudden, and Joseph was taken aback, almost tripping over my swishing dress.

"Oh…um," He was lost for words as he looked into my sparkling, concern-glazed, emerald eyes. I smiled a fake-but-seemingly-very-true smile. I had him absolutely speechless for a whole minute as he looked into my eyes. He then looked away, blushing ever so slightly.

"She's a really wonderful girl. She cares about me a lot, and I don't think she'd ever betray me…" I chuckled at his reply.

"I don't think _anyone_," I turned on my seductive voice. "-would ever betray you. You're a really fine man yourself."

I don't think a _woman_ can grow _that _red.

"Uh…" Joseph stuttered. So I decided to carry on.

"Don't ever let her go. I want you to get married, have a happy and prosperous life." I chuckled. "And be sure to have a lot of children, otherwise you'll be stuck like me, without an heir to your fortune."

Joseph looked flabbergasted.

"Yet, I would like to give you a word of advice." I said, twirling around yet again, with Joseph trying to keep up. "I cannot guarantee you happiness with this advice, but it will certainly make you prosperous."

Joseph looked at my face, as if searching me for a reason as to why I was doing all this.

"As far as I know, the other daughters are married to lords and nobles who all have their own successful businesses. Lord Campbell has to be a fool to pass his huge business to one of those daughters." I was still steering Joseph to my convenience; not paying heed to whether it was an inconvenience to him or not. "The youngest daughter is his dearest, so he is sure to pass the business to her husband. Since you are the only one who doesn't have a business of his own-"

Joseph winced at my wary insult while I continued. "-it will only be rational for him to pass the business to you. Be a bit clever and don't refuse him if he wants to give you the business. You mentioned Gracelia being nice? So wouldn't you want to keep her happy?" I raised a questioning eyebrow, but it was not a question but rather a statement, coming from my mouth. Joseph's look of alarm did not convey anything otherwise either.

We danced in silence for a while, before Joseph spoke up. I wonder how much courage it took him.

"It happens to strike my curiosity as to why you would be interested in this matter, which is solely about my well-being…" Joseph asked, suddenly serious.

I chuckled loudly. "I wish well for you, despite my demeanor you all find to be cold and uncaring. Do you also find me to be heartless?" I batted my eyelashes slyly.

"No! uh..I don't-it's just…" Joseph stuttered. I knew the battle was on my side when I asked him about how he and Gracelia first met, and the innocent, truthful-sounding answer I got.

I felt him relax considerably into the conversation. Score.

I kept giving him my sincerest (fake) smile throughout the dance as I asked him more about his future plans about himself and Gracelia.

After about ten more minutes of this unusual…well, unusually boring conversation about his life, we bowed to each other and I walked away. The final look on his face was that of utter conviction and faith in my words.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** That woman seriously has some sort of beast inside her, doesn't she?

Let me know if you guys wanna see a juicy Claude scene, somewhat like Sebastian's scene with her!


	7. Their Mistress, Fencing

**Author's Note: **extra long chapter so that I can buy myself an extra long break *evil smirk*

**Sebastian: **Mistress Rosalind shall be awaiting your reviews.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6:<strong> **Their Mistress; Fencing**

Claude showed up beside me almost immediately after Joseph was out of sight. His navy blue butler's suit had transformed to a great coat in all Prussian blue, with a honey coloured rose at his lapel. And I hadn't noticed the change till now?

"Very manipulative…" he said, a knuckle to his lips. "I must say; that was impressive, Your Highness."

"Of course it was." I replied, smug. "What else do you expect from me?"

Claude's lips twitched as he turned to face me. "Of course. Your Highness shall always put up the most superior act in the arena."

I chuckled darkly. "He seems to trust people very easily. It's good that he fell for my plan, but it won't be good if he falls for others that easily too."

I began walking away, but suddenly Claude gripped my arm. I looked at him over my shoulder.

He pulled me back so that I was face-to-face with him.

"I must admit, you are looking absolutely beautiful tonight." Claude remarked, a slight hint of slyness in his voice. "The Sweet Briar flower hath not such graceful disposition."

"Being very poetic, Claude?" I chuckled yet again, cocking my head back at a slight angle, looking at him with one eye. "Shall we dance?"

"It would be my pleasure." He replied calmly as we bowed, taking my hand in his while I felt his arm wrap itself snugly around my waist.

The ballet music _Swan Lake_ began to play as Claude twirled me on the ballroom floor. The lights in the chandelier had been dimmed by now to create a romantic and dream-like ambiance for the couples twirling alongside us. Now this is what I call dancing; it's awfully awkward when the lady has to maneuver the man.

We danced in sweet silence for some time before Claude spoke up.

"So you have no whatsoever objection to us demons finding you an amusing artifact?" Claude cocked his head to the left, studying my expression. "I think ladies usually find that to be offensive…"

"Eavesdropping now, are we?" I questioned, mockingly tilting my head like him, just to my right instead.

"When did I claim to be an angel?" Claude said in such monotone as if that wasn't supposed to be funny.

I laughed anyways, as I pushed myself closer to his body.

"So what now?" I whispered into his ear. "You're going to attempt to hurt me? Don't tell me I have to repeat all that aesthetic crap I had to say to Sebastian."

"You need not worry yourself Your Highness, for I am not so depraved as to compete with a human and lose."

"Wow." I kissed his cheek near his ear, letting my lips linger there softly for a while. Seductively. "I'd love to see you two fight for my attention. I love men who are serious and don't care about the world." I drawled. 'I want a man who boasts because he has something of worth, and not because he's composed of hot air."

"As expected of the owner of a huge firm." I felt Claude's hand trail up to my back. "You are a different story before all. Aggressive to Sebastian, caring to Joseph Frederickson, and now you tempt me…"

I giggled into his ear as I draped both of my arms over his shoulders. He encircled my waist with his arms as we kept swaying to a slow waltz.

"You are a diabolical and manipulative temptress, Your Highness…" Claude drawled in his monotone voice. "Why you were born human and not a demonic temptress, I do not know…"

"So I'd make a good succubus?" I asked, smirking slyly.

"In my opinion, yes." Claude replied, without a smirk, but just as slyly.

"Then let's just write the ending here like a succubus, shall we?" I slipped out of his arms, turned away and looked back at him over my shoulder.

"She leaves you begging for more~!" I giggled as I winked, and with a swish of my auburn locks, I walked away. Giggling at his lips curving on one side, the slightest mischief touching his gold orbs.

**-bittersweet vengeance-**

"Azalea, there you are!" I was standing at the foot of the huge staircase when I heard Aunt Vivian call me.

I thought I'd had the last and worst of the party when I had to talk to the wives of the other directors just for the sake of being nice at least once. They were the directors controlling foreign plants; I couldn't afford to be mean to them all the time and give them a legit reason to screw up. There's something called humanity. If I always acted like a stuck-up, obnoxious bitch, people would think I have none of that humanity. So yes, I'm basically proving a point.

Apparently, Aunt Vivian, who was now calling me in a tone which was so un-aunt-Vivian-ish that I thought she got drunk or something.

Sounded like we were the most loving Aunt-and-Niece.

I groaned as I turned, to see a strained smile on Aunt Vivian's face as she reached out and grabbed my arm.

"And this, Lord Raleigh, is my niece, Azalea Bellatrix Draconia!" Aunt Vivian introduced me to the man she brought along with her. I began to notice him as soon as I was over the shock my aunt brought with her stupid womanly voice.

I knew the man. His black hair over his fair forehead in a wind-swept tuft and underlying hazel eyes could be recognized anywhere. He was the son of the Duke of Wales. My father, the Duke of England, used to be friends with his father.

"Stefan Raleigh, son to the Duke of Wales." I said out loud, acknowledging the fact that I knew him beforehand. The man smiled gently.

"Lady Azalea Bellatrix, the Duchess of England…a pleasure," he went into a courtesy to kiss my hand. I immediately withdrew it. He stood back upright, curiously shocked.

I outstretched my hand. "I'm not one to have a thing for my hand being kissed."

Stefan Raleigh chuckled. He gladly shook my hand.

Aunt Vivian was probably getting impatient at being neglected.

"Lord Stefan Raleigh here is interested in asking your hand in marriage!" She exclaimed.

I immediately withdrew my hand, much to both their shocks.

This man, Stefan Raleigh, was a handsome man, and he stood at a height of five feet eleven, I estimated. I myself was six feet. He was also an expert fencing star. He was well-known all over England.

But his height was a major problem. I grabbed my aunt's arm.

"I thought I said I wasn't interested in marriage any time too soon!" I was pissed. "And for God's sake, he's about two inches shorter than me!" I hissed into Aunt Vivian's ear so that Raleigh would not be able to hear.

"It's your fault for being so tall at a tender age!" Aunt Vivian hissed back. She wasn't able to call the height unladylike (as it was) because she herself was of the same height.

"Tender age?! So why the hell are you trying to get me married?"

Aunt Vivian shook off my grip on her (with a lot of difficulty, and only because I loosened it) and continued to smile at Raleigh.

Her expression told me that I wouldn't want to create a scene before this man. Besides, his father was my father's friend. I wouldn't want to embarrass him…

Or would I…? _He_ isn't my father's friend.

"All right." I turned to face Raleigh. "I'll say yes to your proposal if you defeat me in your own game."

"Pardon, my Lady?" Raleigh looked outright surprised.

"Fencing." I said calmly.

Stefan Raleigh's expression was that of as much alarm as if I had just said I was going to strip.

"…Oh, Miss Azalea," he tried to be rational without sounding rude. "A fencing match in a ball, with a lady in a dress…I don't think…"

I turned to Aunt Vivian, giving him a signal that his opinion was not wanted, therefore ignored.

"There's no other way this man can be of any worth if he does not dare participate in a challenge upholded by a lady."

Both Raleigh and Aunt Vivian looked flabbergasted by my outlandish but absolute request.

**-bittersweet vengeance-**

"I can't believe this is happening." Stefan Raleigh chuckled in a confused manner as he donned his helmet. "Why do I have to wear safety gear when you stay in a ball-gown without even the slightest safety precaution?"

The whole crowd of people had stopped dancing or eating or any other activity they were busy in, to clearing a circle of the ballroom floor around the Duchess of England and the son of the Duke of Wales as they picked up their fencing foils.

_People of London have a way of sensing when something outlandish is about to happen under a noble's roof,_ I thought. _How else will they replenish their stock of gossip?_

_Well,_ I picked up my foil. _If this is gossip, then I shall make it so that this lasts long enough to tarnish this man's reputation._ I sneered to myself as I glanced at the partially confused noble man standing with his foil.

Murmurs of 'will a lady like her duel in public' and 'can she really duel the man who is the best at fencing?' were all over the place, pissing me off.

"Because," I began as I swished my foil in the air, checking its light-weight and flexible quality. "This duel may cause you a lot more harm than you've ever known. As for me, let's just say I know I won't get hurt at all, least of all critically injured."

The whole crowd was absolutely silent by now.

"…you seem exceptionally confident." Raleigh laughed. "I like strong women, rare as they are."

_Yes, you haven't seen enough strong women_, I snarled in my mind. _For if a deplorable man like you did, you'd know that at most times, they'd be your worst nightmares._

"Let's just cut the crap and start, shall we?" I was getting irritated due to the useless wasting of my time. Damn aunt Vivian. Sebastian would report anytime soon.

"Of course."Raleigh agreed.

"So…" I got into stance and Raleigh followed. "Since I'll be going easy on you, you may make the first move. No arguments."

Raleigh looked absolutely delighted.

"Really, now?" he mocked. "I thought ladies were always first?"

My angry look probably got him to cut it out.

He stepped forward and attacked me. His foil came straight at my face. As I was taller than him, this attack could be used to his advantage in most cases. But this is Azalea Bellatrix we're talking about!

I bent my shoulders backward to a generous angle, and spun on my heel, dragging my blade like a fan to swish near his stomach. He backed up in just a split second, shocked at the move. His look of delight had subsided into a panicked expression.

_Panicking over my first move, pussy?_ I smirked mentally. _And he says proudly that he likes strong women. Let's see you hold your own against one of the toughest you'll ever meet._

He attempted to swing at my side so that it would be harder to dodge. But, the dumbass was too late at realizing that the lunge he made was timed for a male, whose abdomen would not be curved as far as a female's. The time to reach my side would be a fraction more than any normal man's. It was hard to dodge, but Iangled myself vertically and the heavy metal spheres of my belt ties swished and hit the foil.

"How'd you avoid that so fast?" he asked, as he made another similar lunge, but still didn't realize the point.

"It's all timing, ma boy!" I laughed as I dodged yet again.

_Never underestimate your opponent, pretty boy_. I thought.

He tried to lunge at my stomach, as I stepped back to avoid it and immediately swept my foil to his face, which, again, he dodged by just a split second. I twirled and used my fan method again, and he kept stepping back.

The audience found it an amazing sight; the swishing of the sparkling gown in a deadly waltz, the owner of the gown not holding the man's hand but rather the foils were in close contact. The clang of the foils being the only music in this dance.

After four of these consecutive attacks while he dodged, I stopped on my toes and sprang forwards , my charge directed at his chest. The point stopped touching his armour. But he immediately used his foil to counter the point.

Too predictable.

His foil crossed with mine as he attempted the defense, and I immediately used the move again, crossing and twisting the foil so abruptly and with such force that the foil was thrown out of his shock-resultant slackened hold.

I pointed my foil at his nose, smugness radiating off my face.

"My, oh my." Raleigh panted. "You are much better than most _men_ at this sport."

"You know nothing of me, Raleigh." I snarled. "Underestimating me is the stupidest and deadliest mistake you can ever make."

"Never shall I do the same should you accept my proposal." He smiled at me gently, hoping for a pardon.

Tough luck.

"I'm not interested in a relationship where I have to be the man." I chuckled humourlessly. "It wouldn't look nice: me in a black tuxedo carrying my groom in a white ball gown on the day of marriage, now would it?"

The crowd looked flabbergasted and Raleigh looked embarrassed. I could see my fuming aunt in the crowd. And yes, you guessed right. I don't really care.

"Well…" I turned to the thoroughly flabbergasted face of Raleigh. I put one hand to my hip. "…I meant you would look ugly in a ball gown. As far as I'm concerned, I'd look absolutely ravishing in a black tuxedo~!"

The women in the crowd gasped, while a few men began to laugh.

Claude was immediately by my side to take my fencing foil and hand me a glass of wine.

I took a sip and looked at Raleigh over the rim of the glass.

"And just so you know that I know, your sport isn't really fencing, now is it?" I chuckled at his eyes getting wider than saucers. "And I'm letting you know, as something between you and me, that I can beat you at that too."

Stefan Raleigh, as I could tell by his look, wouldn't be bothering me again any time too soon.

**-bittersweet vengeance-**

"So you used the information I obtained in the case before the last, I observed." Claude whispered into my ear as we walked around the ballroom arm-in-arm.

"Oh, of course!" I exclaimed softly. "I may say you two are absolute nuisances who are not worth your salt, but yet, I go through every bit-and-piece of information you both have accumulated in every single case, regardless of whether it has anything to do with catching the wrong-doer or not."

"I would exchange a hundred pounds for your reason." Claude said in monotone.

"Isn't it obvious?" I giggled. "You gather information from the deepest, darkest regions anyone can ever get to. Who knows what shit you dig up about these important people who show off their rich butts like there's no one better than them. So I read everything you two write, and often get to discover fatally harmful (but useful to me, of course) facts about the nobles around me. And it is obvious that each and every one of these pompous asses have a significantly dark and illegally harmful secret they would want to take to the grave." We moved over to the buffet table. "That dirt you dig up, can seriously ruin their reputations, and increase mine." I picked up a pastry and bit into it. "It's all part of the political game, for name, fame and wealth."

I laughed heartily. "I personally consider it my job to make that shit hit the fan."

"And, what if someone found out secrets about you?" Claude handed me another pastry and I gladly bit into it. It was made of chocolate icing on the outside, with blackcurrant paste squashed into the middle of the chocolate cake layers. "Someone leaks out secrets about you that you would never want anyone to know about?"

I laughed. Again.

"Claude, Claude, Claude…" I spun around on my heel so that I was facing him as I leaned my hips against the table, resting my palms along its edge. "Those people care about their reputation with the newspapers because their secrets are outlandish and no one would ever imagine them capable of such abomination!" I looked into the crowd. "If you take Mister Stefan Raleigh there: who would consider him to be involved with the Shanghai mafia dealing in the London underground at present while he interacts with people in such a gentle and noble way? Who would consider that gorgeous man to be curled up in some Chinese divan, covered in sluts and marijuana smoke, gambling against some mafia lord famed for murdering a legion of people?"

"You have a point there, my Lady." Claude followed my line of sight.

"See? Those ladies seem smitten by his good-looks and calm attitude." I pointed to the far end of the other table where Raleigh stood flirting with some ladies, while the titter-birds tittered to their hearts' contents. I laughed yet again. 'An avid gambler he is! And he loves smoking marijuana."

"Hmm," Claude was pondering with a finger against his chin. "What would you say if someone accused you of the same thing? You also, as far as I know, love both gambling and marijuana."

"Shh!" I raised a finger to my lips and widened my eyes in shock, before bursting into peals of laughter. "Do you think I care? My reputation of being outlandish is already popular, so a bit more won't throw them social gossipers out of their rockers."

After my chuckles had subsided, Claude spoke up again.

"But what if…" he looked at me straight into my eyes. "Someone found out about you having demon butlers?"

I blinked. Claude thought he'd finally gotten me.

Cue laughter like none of the ones before. Claude looked a tad less monotonous, and slightly confused.

I pulled a fat strand of my curls over my lips to make it look like a mustache. I used my other hand to form a circle and brought it to my eye to make it look like a monocle.

"Hey, Aberline," I motioned to Claude in a gruff way, turning my voice into a heavy, angry one.

Claude started to look a bit on the lines of amused. "Are you trying to act like Lord Randall, Your Highness?"

"Aberline, I knew that woman was rotten on the inside!" I huffed. "She has contracted demons for butlers!"

I dropped the hand and the hair and took an empty fruit basket from the table and put it on my head upside down like a hat. Claude mouthed: Aberline.

"What?" I said in squeaky tones to make Aberline sound dorky.

"And then…" I said in my own voice.

Claude looked quite interested by now. At least I assumed he found it interesting.

"Hahahaha!" I voiced a silly, squeaky laugh. "Sir, I believe everything you ever say," I copied Aberline, "but this is just too unbelievable. I think you need to visit s psychiatrist!"

Claude looked like he was waiting for a summary.

I put down the basket, still chuckling. "In short, people will stop believing you once you drag them out of their rational world. I'm not rational to them anymore, so they just wave it off like; yeah, she always does something like that. And as for demons, they'll just say: yes, and I have a hag in my living room."

"In short…" Claude seemed to guess that I had more to say.

"In short…" I twirled my curls on my fingers. "You've got to be an idiot to say it out loud and then get called a loony by the whole world. After all, these narrow-minded people just prefer not to think or believe outside the box. What proof would anyone ever have of you two being demons? Unless, for some stupid reason, you both decide to rip off your shirts and transform into hideous seven-headed beasts with six thousand fangs and lethal breath in the middle of the city square, I see no way for anyone to buy it."

I laughed again, thinking of a scenario when the decent butlers suddenly stroll into London market square and rip off their shirts just to turn into the beasts I described, just pink, and chibi-ish.

"Wonderful acting, my Lady," I was startled when Sebastian suddenly spoke up from behind me. "Though, the kind of woman you are, I believe you wouldn't find our true forms to be half as hideous as you described. Wouldn't you agree, Claude?" The demons seemed to involved in trying to sting each other with words to notice me grabbing my chest with the sudden appearance of Sebastian.

"She would even find a ferocious beast like that to be attractive, the kind of woman she is." Claude said. "I believe we know you enough to assume that, Your Highness. And…" Claude turned to Sebastian. "…know that I would not agree with your statements were it on some other topic.

"Rest assured, for your opinions regarding other matters shall not be asked." Sebastian sneered.

"For you would be afraid of my opinions to be better than yours and therefore overrule them in the eyes of the mistress."

"No…rather because I would probably not even regard your existence at the point."

"Or…rather because you'd be scared of competition."

"You don't really consider yourself to be on par with me, do you?"

"I don't wish t consider myself on par with the likes of you."

"You do mean that I'm on a level you will never reach."

"Stop bickering, you immature sensible demons…no matter how paradoxical that is…" I laughed, before turning and grabbing Sebastian by his tie. "And I swear…" I growled. "One of these days, you are going to give me a cardiac arrest."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** see ya'll later hope u enjoyed Claude scene!


	8. Their Mistress, Contemplating

**I'm finally back after a long time...so I hope you'll not be mad at me...ANyways, thanks for all the positive feedback for this story! Keep reading and enjoying, and there's nothing more to say than, Azalea's back for some action!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8:<strong> **Their Mistress; Contemplating**

"Fire away."

I had rushed upstairs with both Sebastian and Claude, ignoring the whole party. There wasn't much they could counter when I infamously said 'who's the servant?'

So now, I sat with my legs crossed under my skirt pretzel-style upon the mattress of my bed, with Sebastian grinning from the opposite end of the room, while Claude stood near me, stoic as ever.

"Claude, if I am not mistaken…'_not so depraved as to compete with a human and lose_'?"Sebastian cocked his head to one side as he looked at the stoic butler. The latter made no visible movement other than his golden irises, which slid from me to the direction of the raven-demon.

"Well, let's just say you wouldn't dare to compete against our talented lady here." Sebastian glanced at me fondly. Claude looked like he couldn't care less. "Besides, we all know who won."

"Shut your hole and answer me." I snapped.

"Of course, my Lady," Sebastian replied, bowing down low in my direction. "It's not like what the spider butler says can affect me in any way. It just shows how miserably desperate he is to prove himself."

"Can we stop talking about the useless spider butler who fell prey to a human's charm and continue?" I add, winking at Sebastian who smirked widely. Claude's eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly.

"But, then again, _enchanting_ as you are, my lady, we can't really blame him for falling prey to your charm…" Sebastian slyly cast a glance at Claude, before winking back at me.

I crossed my legs and twirled my curls like a drama-queen. "That's true~!"

Sebastian chuckled. "Oh, and before I forget, that was quite some sincerity you showed for Joseph Frederickson…it was absolutely _precious_," he said cunningly, a finger on his chin in thought. Claude raised an eyebrow in my direction.

I lay back on my bed in laughter, to which Claude raised both his eyebrows and his lips slid to one side, while Sebastian looked significantly amused.

I sat up, coughing over laughing so hard. "That was all just one of my ingenious ploys to make him do what I want."

I told them about the whole monopoly thing, and about the daughter of Wellington Campbell being Joseph's fiancée. Sebastian and Claude both looked impressed.

"And here I was, thinking that people knew better than to trust you." Claude said, sitting in the chair opposite to the bed,

"Oh, what can I say?" I smirked at the golden-eyed demon. "But...people just can't _help_ but believe in a beautiful, as Sebastian said, _enchanting_ woman's concern-clad glassy eyes. And sugar-coated words concealing malice but coming from a temptress' carnation lips can gain greater faith than the desperate truth a saint preaches."

"Very true, your Highness," Claude said, putting a knuckle to his chin.

Sebastian pulled out his white silk handkerchief from his breast pocket, and with a swish in midair, he transformed it to a lovely red rose in full bloom. I clapped lightly, and he handed it to me.

"You have brought _faith_ in a demon through those words…" Sebastian smirked smugly, bowing. "What more can I say?"

I stood up and started removing my shoes. I couldn't stand being in this ridiculous pile of fabric anymore.

Claude stood up and walked over to help me with the strings holding up my top.

"You see, our mistress here is very political minded." Sebastian walked forward, helping me take off the jewellery I was wearing. "I don't think she even revealed an inkling of her ulterior motives to poor Mr. Frederickson throughout the extensive conversation." He looked up at my face from his kneel (where he was working to remove my garters), to see my smirk grow even more evident.

Claude turned up the corner of his lips as he pulled off the crystal clips clasped onto my curls to set them in place. "That she didn't. She made it seem like she wanted him to have a happy, prosperous life."

"And the man was taken by it." Sebastian said, tugging at the bow of my skirt behind me.

"It is indeed amazing, how easily humans fall for beauty. Be it even in other humans." Claude said, pulling off my shoes and stockings, as I sat down.

"That it is." Sebastian smirked as he pulled off my ball-skirt. "But then again, our mistress here is accomplished in sectors other than beauty as well."

"When you two are done having the conversation like I'm not here…" I growled through gritted teeth.

"Of course, my Lady…" Sebastian smiled with closed eyes.

"We meant no disrespect." Claude bowed low.

When I was finally dressed in a thin, chiffon nightgown, I sat down on my bed and crossed my legs.

"So, Sebastian," I looked up at the smirking demon. "Bring out all you've got."

"Very, well, my Lady."

* * *

><p><strong><em>FIVE HOURS BACK; Time - 5:47 pm:<em>**

"The ships should be approaching the dock by now…" Sebastian thought, hidden behind four or five oil barrels left on the dock. He caught sight of about seven ships, all heading towards this very dock.

Soon, they had docked, and their bridges lowered down ashore. Men in groups of fives and tens rushed down with heavy boxes, crates and barrels, and made way towards their respective warehouses. All the warehouses here were owned by Draconia & Frederickson's.

Within an hour and a half, the men were done unloading the ships. The warehouses were locked up by supervisors while the rest of the men headed back towards the ships.

"Well, well, well…" Sebastian smirked. "Each ship came with random numbers of people, but each goes back with one man less?"

Yes. He counted precisely how many men walked down and how many went back for each ship.

**_Time – 8:15 pm:_**

After the supervisors had packed up and left, Sebastian entered warehouse 17 (there are just 7 warehouses at the dock, but they are numbered out of the total at each port owned by the company) by jumping onto the roof and entering through the window (it was open, but it was five storey high). The roof had no anchorage, so this feat would be close to impossible for most humans.

He sneaked down the stairways soundlessly and looked around every floor like a wild cat on the prowl for its prey.

Before long, he saw a silhouette appear out of a crate. He navigated towards the room, all the while staying in the shadows, and with his first move, the man was on the floor, under his foot.

The man screamed.

"And who might you be?" Sebastian smirked. "Were you left behind by your crew?"

"…Y-ye-yes, sir!" The man gasped. "I…I was la-late in keeping my crate, so they left me…"

Sebastian's smirk disappeared, as he lifted the man clear off the ground by the collar.

"Humans are such liars," Sebastian pondered aloud. "Let's see what the case really is, shall we?"

A deadly smirk came onto his face. The close-eyed smile that was anything but serene.

**_Time – 8:30 pm:_**

Sebastian had rounded up all seven men, from each warehouse, and had them tied up together and gagged.

They sat, tied back to back, in a circle on the floor of warehouse 18.

Now Sebastian ripped the gag off one of the men.

"I want the numbers of all the crates which you have brought into the warehouses today."

"We don't have them," The man replied immediately.

"Really?" Sebastian asked, amused. "Or are you just trying to hide something from me? Let me tell you…" He pulled off his left glove with his teeth, "That I remember all the numbers of the crates very well. If you would let me get back to my mistress as quickly as possible, I would respect your cooperation, and request my mistress to order me to treat you like living beings. So…hand me the numbers."

Another man muffled against the gag. Sebastian ripped it.

"He's not lying! We really do not have it!" He sputtered.

"Ah well… Sebastian re-gagged the two. "I'll just have to do it myself."

And he dashed off like a cougar and made way to the roof of the warehouse 17. Out of the window.

"_Ooo da hell isshh hee_?" One man asked the other. The other simply shrugged, a terrified look crossing his eyes.

**_Time – 8:45 pm:_**

The man looked horrified to see Sebastian calmly walk up the stairs to the top floor (where they were sitting) of warehouse 18, carrying twelve crates, six per arm.

"Get up, all of you," he said with a dangerous tone. They stood up immediately. "We have somewhere to get to, so make haste."

"So, what did you find?" I enquired curiously.

Sebastian went out of the room and entered shortly, with twelve crates. He opened a crate and fished out a small transparent packet containing a white powder.

"No way…" I immediately sprang up and grabbed the packet from him. Tearing it open with a single nail, I sniffed it.

"Just as I expected…" I growled. "It's opium."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** R&R! Wonder what Azalea's going to do now?


	9. Their Mistress, Kicks Ass!

**Author's Note: *bashes head repeatedly against keyboard looking worse than a donkey on crack* SO SORRY FOR THE PROCRASTINATION *resumes murdering her keyboard and forehead***

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 9: Their Mistress; Kicks Ass!<strong>

**Third person POV:**

Aberline hurried to the open window of the Yard's office when he heard the thundering approach of horses. He instantly concealed himself among the curtains when he spotted three horses approaching, instead of a horse-drawn carriage.

The leading mare was snow-white; the two flanking it were ebony-black stallions. They were the sturdiest horses he had ever seen, with gorgeous manes and muscular forelimbs and hind-quarters.

Perched atop the mare with braided-white mane was the rebel Duchess; her advisor/butler Michaelis, and her secretary/butler, Faustus, rode upon the stallions.

Aberline pulled the curtains together and swiftly turned to address his senior, who was still working at his desk.

"Sir, Lord Randall…" Aberline whispered. When Randall looked up at him, "The Duchess approaches…"

"What? Where?" Randall immediately stood up. "She wasn't due till two hours later!"

A soft chuckle broke the silence.

"Lord Randall~," a female voice came through the window. A soft clack of heels landing atop the floor made both human men gasp. "Miss me?"

Azalea Bellatrix had smoothly slid off her horse and through the window left open by Aberline. She drew the curtains back to the way Aberline left them, and strode over confidently to the door, opening it to reveal her ever-accompanying butlers.

The human men stared at the woman with wide-eyed disbelief. Aberline was blushing. Her high-heeled black leather boots reached all the way to her knees. From there onwards, she wore skin-tight black riding pants, which rose to her waist, where it ended at a fat, black, silver-buckled belt. She wore a long-sleeved, loose-fitting polo shirt which was a striking scarlet, but her waist and bust was perfectly highlighted due to tight fit of the black outer corset, reaching up from her waistline and covering her bust. Her black hair was tied tightly to the back of her head in a long, deep brown ponytail.

She herself pulled out the chair in front of Randall's desk and comfortably settled herself on it, crossing one leg atop the other. Sebastian gently placed a cigar at her lips while Claude lit it up. She inhaled deeply and moved it away with two fingers. Tilting her head up seductively, she blew the smoke onto Aberline's face (he was standing right next to her chair).

"Want one, Randall, Aberline?" She offered, showing them the brand from the one she was smoking. "The best and most expensive England has to offer."

Randall landed his palms aggressively on the desk surface. The action seemed to intimidate her as much as a baby's clap would.

"Lady-" Randall started.

"Lord Draconia," Azalea drawled as she took another long whiff of her cigar.

**Azalea's POV:**

I looked at the two men before me. One looked absolutely enraged while the other looked awestruck and confused.

I raised my legs onto the desk and crossed them, tilting the chair back on two legs. Taking the cigar away from my lips, I said, "Just saying. You know, you look down on me as a weak creature when you refer to me as 'Lady'. So refer to me as you would to my father, and that's that. You wouldn't look down on him, now would you?"

Intimidating as Father was, I don't think even demons would look down on that man.

Randall thundered at the comment. "So what brings you here two hours earlier, Lord Draconia?"

"That's more like it…" I smirked. "Oh, please take a seat, Lord Randall."

_The nerve of this woman!_ Though Randall_. Offering me a seat in my own office! Damned woman! If only Her Majesty the Queen wasn't always supporting this snake sneaking through the underground…_

Randall looked furious. I continued to observe him with glassy emerald eyes and slightly parted lips. The smoke softly emerged through them. "You see, my business here in London was taken care of earlier than expected, so here I am."

"And what, may I pry, was your _business_ in London today?" Randall looked like a slight pinch would have him off his seat and rampaging.

"Oh, nothing _much_~" I twirled a pen from the desk between two long fingers. "Shopping, eating pastry, the usual things most noblewomen delight in…"

**Third person POV:**

Randall looked at Aberline. It was clear that both men shared the feeling that Azalea Bellatrix had been doing anything _but_ shopping and eating pastry, since it was a known fact she did not delight in usual things, and was most certainly not one of the 'most' noblewomen.

"…I see…" Is there anything more you can say when dealing with a woman like her? He thought, observing her lithe index and middle fingers capture the cigar and pull it away from her lips as she blew the smoke overhead in thin wisps.

"So, Randall…" She flipped her hand backwards and glanced at her nails carelessly. "What was it you wanted to tell me?"

Randall watched as the lady held out a palm, and her butler Claude placed a thin nail file in her outstretched fingers. She started to size her nails, not even looking at him anymore.

He could feel his insides boil in rage. _The nerve of this woman!_ He thought again.

"We just wanted to inform you that you have no business at the docks, should you try to interfere in the ongoing case of drug-dealing and various assorted crimes." Randall said, trying very hard to keep his calm, but sounding anything but polite. If he was dealing with any other noble higher in rank than himself, he would have to deal with some problem for sure, but seeing as this was the Rebel Noble, he got away with it. She wasn't the least bit bothered with how people spoke as long as they're not foul-mouthing her. She sometimes got people into trouble for rudeness, but then, she must be feeling extra-nasty to persecute them for something she didn't give a damn about.

"And why is that?" she calmly questioned, concentrating on her nails more than Randall.

"Because, that's _our_ job," Randall hissed. Apparently the lack of regard for him in the duchess was finally getting the best of him.

"What do you plan to do about this case, then?" she questioned calmly, blinking at him innocently. "Strengthen guard at the warehouses by the dock and have officers dressed as civilians supervise from a distance?"

Randall opened his mouth, just to close it again. When he began to open it again, she said, "Personally investigate goods inside the warehouse and station guards to check what is being brought down from ships?"

Randall closed his mouth. Azalea grinned broadly.

"I'd like to see you open the hundreds of crates coming in _just for the pharmaceutical department_ of my company." She stated, smirking.

"Too much pride kills its owner, _Lord Draconia_."

"Pride isn't a person, so I couldn't care less about the threat it poses," Azalea answered non-chalantly as she turned her attention back onto the nail file.

"We would still respect it if you stayed out of this."

"Hmm…let's see…" she mumbled. "Nah, don't feel like it."

"So you're not going to back out?" Randall said, through clenched teeth.

"Give me one good reason," she said casually, taking a long whiff from her cigar. The scene was getting very hard to digest for both Randall and Aberline.

"The Queen gave us clear orders-" Randall began, when Azalea snapped her fingers sharply. Sebastian pulled out a scroll from behind his back and stretched it out before him. The Royal Seal and Her Highness' signature at the end told it all.

Randall continued even though his strongest point was over-ruled. "We are the official law-enforcers in the city, and we are the ones given the responsibility to capture such wrong-doers-"

"Well," she said, lowering her legs from the desk, and leaning forwards to balance her elbows where her legs had been. She crossed her fingers and leaned her chin on them. "I'd say you're not very successful in 'capturing wrong-doers', then."

"Wh-what on earth do you mean by that?" Randall thundered. Aberline looked panicked.

Suddenly, Azalea's voice turned dark. And lowered at least two octaves, sending a chill down Aberline's spine.

"_What, pray tell me, happened of capturing my parents' killers?_" she asked, in a very deadly tone. Sebastian raised two fingers to his lips to hide his smirk, and Claude raised his eyebrows ever so slightly. "Or are they not wrong-doers in your view?"

Randall knew he was starting to get on her bad side now.

"…I'm not sitting here to set a proposition before you, La-Lord Draconia. All in all, I'm trying to make it known to you that you do not need to be a part of this." Aberline started to walk forward as Randall stood up. "It was our duty before yours, and, as your 'reason', I'll give you this: we have more capable people working on the case."

"More capable people, huh?"

"Most absolutely-"

She had purposefully stuck her leg out at exactly the right time. Aberline took a quick step, just to trip up on the misplaced appendage, and fell face forward on the floor before them. Sebastian had stepped aside at the precise moment so as to not hinder his fall.

"Well – I think I've made my point." she said, with an exaggerated shrug and teeth-showing grin. "Your argument is invalid."

Randall was fuming. "It was our duty before yours." What a desperate attempt to recover from the insult, thought Azalea, watching Aberline get up with the same grin plastered on her face.

"Get real, Randall," she said, standing up and picking up her packet of smokes. "Everyone knows that rats fall for poisoned cheese better than the good ol' mousetraps. Generational improvement."

As she turned away, her butlers at her heels and opened the door, she turned her head at him again.

"Oh, and just to let you know." She said, deadly voice back again. "I know you didn't believe my statement of doing conventional noblewomen stuff. But it's not like I care, so…"

With a final shrug, she exited. Her butlers closed the door behind her.

Silence.

"Umm, Lord Randall, sir…" Aberline started.

"Don't. You. Say. Another. Word." Randall said, glaring sideways at Aberline. If looks could kill, Aberline would have died many times over. "You idiot."

**Third person POV:**

"Hey Riven."

A young man of about twenty-five with a mess of silver hair braided behind his head, and hazel eyes said without turning around in his chair. He carried on toying with the dog on his lap.

"So what're we gonna do next, Raiden?" a man of the same age as the first questioned in a drawl. This one had burgundy hair and heterochromatic eyes: one purple and one deep brown iris. 'All o' us have gotta be back from assigned missions by now.."

"To tell you the truth," the one called Raiden set aside the dog and stood from his armchair. Both Raiden and the one he'd referred to as Riven were over six feet in height and had a similar build: slim with defined muscles. Both were dressed in similar black shirts, ivory ties and grey pants with black leather belt. "I have no clue…"

And they were both very handsome.

"But yes," Raiden continued. "Everyone is back from their assigned missions."

"Ha!" Riven let out a loud bark of a laugh. "Well, let's go indulge in some fun till that bastard Master of ours comes up with some better ploy. I gotta fight better people next time."

"Hmm…" Raiden pondered about getting 'better people to fight'. He smirked. "You've sensed him too?"

"Bitch please," Riven drawled. "I developed that detection skill more than most of our kind. That bastard spyin' on us was strong, yeah, but I know hell well to conceal ma'self from strong sons of bitches like him."

"Where's everyone else?" Raiden questioned, returning to picking up the dog and stroking it.

"Like I give a damn…" Riven snarled, biting on a single black nail to bring out a wood splinter. "I swear, if ya ever force me to play around with wood onboard, I'm gonna tie ya to the poop deck."

Raiden chuckled at the cocky comment.

"Hmm…" Raiden looked out of the window of the small cabin they were currently standing inside. "Do you know where Ren is, at least? I thought you two got along?"

"Uh…yeah…" Riven scratched the back of his head. "The guy came onboard wimme. Said he's gonna check on the whores." He laughed the bark-laugh again. "Probably getting' laid till now, 'cuz I sense his presence bein' in lotsa fun." He finished with a shit-eating grin.

"Of course…" Raiden said patiently. "And what of Reika? I thought you liked her?"

"Reika…" Riven said, furrowing his eyebrows in thought. "Lemme see…well…she went off wimme, but then said she'll be back after getin' some food…bitch didn't tell me anymore." He finished with a frown.

"Hmm…" Raiden looked at Riven, to see if he was hiding anything. When he realized his subordinate was being honest, he dropped his gaze back to his dog. "Thank you, Riven. That will be all."

"'Kay…" Riven turned and walked away. But when he opened the cabin door, he turned around.

"Ya sure ya don't wanna go a couple o' rounds wimme? Imma open the bottle I brought in from London. Finest scotch whiskey." He asked Raiden, who remained as he had been.

"No, but thanks for your kind offer, Riven," he said flatly. "I'd like to be alone for a while."

"'Kay then…" Riven said, shrugging as he left.

**First person POV:**

"So now we know Yard never had much up their sleeves from the beginning."

I sat perched atop the food-preparation counter in the kitchen, my legs dangling off the corner as Sebastian refilled my goblet with scotch whiskey. He had helped himself to some wine upon my insisting, while Claude had politely declined, saying he does not drink alcohol.

"It almost seems as if they never planned to take this seriously enough." Sebastian pointed out. "Inspecting the dock wouldn't stop the murders, would they? It could if I was there, of course…" he cast a mocking, furtive glance at Claude who returned the look with loathing (that is, as much as he can through that emotionless façade). "…But I feel that getting to the bottom of these illegal activities is going to be slightly more difficult than Scotland Yard predicts."

"'Slightly more difficult', Sebastian?" I yelled. "They infiltrated into _my_ frickin' company! It's not easy at all, and you now it! These bastards, whoever they are, are sneaky and geniuses to manage it. Along with the other crimes they are accomplishing in while coming by ships, moreover amongst innocent-looking crew, I'd say it's going to be a case unlike what we've seen for quite some time now."

"I was simply trying to stay calm about this, my Lady…" Sebastian bowed deeply, one hand over his 'heart'. "I'm sorry if I offended you."

"It's not that…" I said, staring into the depths of my drink. "It's just that I want you to take this very seriously. Someone is trying to stain the family name!" I yelled. "The family name my father worked so hard on building!"

"I apologize profusely if I have hurt any sentiments of yours, my Lady." Sebastian did not lift his head from the bow.

"…No…it's all right…" I said, as he got up from his deep bow. "It's just that…whoever these bastards are…we're gonna exterminate them completely, even if the Queen just wants us to stop them or turn them over to the law."

Claude, who had been quiet thus far, had definitely got into better spirits watching Sebastian get yelled at. So he spoke up now.

"Your Highness, surely you cannot leave this case to Yard's hands? After all, it's the Queen's orders that you get to the bottom of this case, and also, this is the question of your beloved business"

I bit down on my lower lip, drawing a bit of blood, as I lowered my head, hiding my face behind my bangs completely. "Absolutely correct, Claude."

Sebastian and Claude stared at me curiously as a smirk grew to a grin plastered on my face.

"Boys, I want you to study the ships' arrival patterns. And as for all three of us, let's prepare for an early Hallowe'en…"

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Whatcha think whatchaa think? Plot development! And extra long chappie!


End file.
